The Roses Underneath (22 page)

Anna found a shaded spot and sat down on the ground to clear her head. Packs of little boys ran around and others sat on the curb in little rows, watching and elbowing each other. Above her, women leaned out of windows: the younger ones looked expectant, the older ones worried. The tank screeched back and forth, inching its way into the designated spot until coming to rest at the edge of the fence, its turret pointed toward her. American soldiers climbed up the side of the tank and thumped each other on the back, laughing and lighting cigarettes before moving on to the next one, which she presumed they would park at the opposite corner. Anna took the opportunity to make her way through the traffic jam to the main gate. There was now a jeep parked across the opening and an MP stepped into her path with hand raised before she was even close.

“No entry, Ma’am,” he shouted.

Anna pulled her new papers from her bag and waved them at him. “What’s going on?” she asked.

He held up a finger to silence her as he inspected the small card with her picture. His eyes met hers and she waited for the ritual to be over. He looked up and smiled at her. “Thank you, Frau Klein. Just stepping up security. You can go on in.” He held his arm out and stepped back. Anna wondered if this
Ami
was friends with Miller, and if he, too, had an opinion of her and Cooper’s relationship.

Inside the fence, the courtyard was less frenetic. Cooper stood in the middle, talking with a group of workers and waving his arms around his head like a dry-docked swimmer. Seeing her, he smiled, and Anna felt self-conscious, as if everyone was watching them.

“Oh thank God you’re here, finally. I am trying to explain to them that we need more lights. The whole courtyard needs to be lit at night. Bright as day. We can’t have any dark patches. Can you tell them?”

The faces of the workers all turned expectantly to Anna who relayed the instructions.

“Ah, okay!” One of the older men pointed a finger to the sky and beamed at Cooper who replied with his thumbs-up gesture. Everyone nodded and dispersed.

“Thanks. You were gone forever. I can’t seem to get a damn thing done without you anymore. Don’t leave me again.” He laughed and spun around on his heel. “Where’s Miller?”

“Stuck in that traffic. I walked. He’ll bring the things up when he gets here.” Anna followed Cooper into the building. “I got everything, even the last three typewriter ribbons in the city. Don’t tell anyone.” She held the box up and shook it.

“Great! And Miller’s driving didn’t kill you; that’s good.”

“No, the driving wasn’t too bad,” she lied. “But…”

Cooper turned toward her. “But what?”

Anna shook her head. “Oh nothing. Never mind.”

Cooper cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. “Something happen? He
make a move on you?”

“No, he didn’t,”
Anna replied. Glad to be able to tell the truth. “Not at all.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I was just wondering how well you know him. You seem so different from each other. Are you friends?”

“Friends?
Me and Miller? No I wouldn’t say that. He is my subordinate and I try to keep those lines clear. We’d never met before I ended up here in Wiesbaden. And, anyway, we’ve got nothing in common. You sure he didn’t make a pass at you or grab you? You seem strange. You need me to knock some sense into him?”

Anna smiled at the thought of Cooper punching Miller’s flat face. “No need,” she said. “Everything’s fine.”

Cooper seemed relieved. “So, guess what?” He twinkled at her. “I got a bike for me and one for the boy. And I got a day pass. For tomorrow.”

“That’s wonderful. How did you manage that?”

“I traded two packs of smokes for the use of two bikes for a day. And the day pass, well, that’s all about who you know.”

“Are you sure it’s all right for you to leave tomorrow?” She wished she hadn’t asked him to come along. It had been an innocent invitation, but now it was just more fodder for the rumor mill. She hated that people were talking about her.

Cooper stopped to let a group of men carrying a crate pass. “They won’t miss me for one day. This is all exciting isn’t it? I think we’ll be ready for the shipment on Monday.”

Anna frowned. “Are the tanks really necessary?”

“Better safe than sorry. We need the firepower. Just in case.”

“I think they make people nervous,” Anna said.

Cooper laughed. “That’s the idea.”

“As long you don’t get dogs. Please tell me there won’t be any dogs.”

“No, no dogs.” He softened. “Just guns. We’re Americans after all.”

Anna chuckled at his joke. “That fellow Corporal Bender is very nice.”

“You saw Bender? Is he out at the airfield? He’s a great guy. I need to pay him a visit. Haven’t talked to him in months. Hell, a year, probably. Nice guy.” Cooper smiled and shook his head, remembering some shared joke.

“He said the same about you. You haven’t talked to him at all?” Anna considered Bender’s claim that Cooper had called the supply store looking for her.

“No. Last time I saw him he was setting up post in some Italian village. I got my orders to move on. I’m glad to hear he’s okay.”

Anna watched Cooper as he shuffled through the papers on his desk. Was he lying about the call to the supply store or had Bender simply tried to save her from Miller? Did Cooper know more about Miller than he was letting on? She pulled the cover off the typewriter and wiggled the mechanism loose to change out the ribbon. If Cooper was lying about the phone call, what else was he lying about? She tightened the new ribbon on its spool and clicked it back into place.

“Oh, before I forget, see if you can’t get that film roll developed downstairs. It’s still in the camera around here somewhere. And tell me when and where to meet tomorrow. We should probably get an early start, don’t you think? I am looking forward to it.”

Anna nodded and fed a blank field report form into the typewriter. “Yes, me too,” she said.

Anna pulled on her pants and the yellow cotton blouse with the green metal buttons then washed her face and brushed her hair. She rubbed toothpaste on her teeth with her finger and wiggled her loose tooth.
Still there. Regarding herself in the mirror shard above the sink, she turned her head this way then the other to get a composite picture. Gray interlopers infiltrated her hairline like wires among the dull brown strands. Her eyes looked flat and the creases between her eyebrows had gotten deeper. She wondered if she would ever again recognize herself in the mirror. Then again, it was hard to look herself in the eye for very long. She faked a smile at her reflection. Unconvincing. Her face sank back into the comfortable contours of the constant frown she had acquired. She felt like an old sofa with faded upholstery and sagging springs. She pulled her hair away from her face and pinned it into a twist at the back of her head. A haircut would do her good; maybe Madeleine could do it for her tonight. When she decided she was presentable, Anna closed the bathroom door and rummaged through the drawer of the cabinet in the hall.

“Maus, I have something for you.” She walked back the living room and sat down on the bed.

“What is it, Mama?” Amalia jumped up and down with one shoe on, eyes wide with excitement.

Anna held out a fist and smiled. Amalia cupped her hands underneath and Anna dropped a key tied on a loop of red ribbon into the girl’s palm. “You wear it around your neck. So, if you ever need to leave the house when I am gone you can lock the door and also get back in. Or you can come home on your own if I can’t come pick you up. Since you are almost seven years old, I think you are big enough to have it now.”

Amalia’s eyes dimmed. “Where will you be, Mama? Will you not come home?”

Anna slid to the floor and pulled the girl close. “Oh, Maus, of course I’ll come home. I’ll even pick you up every day just like always. But this way you can come home if maybe I am late. It’s just for emergencies. I will tell Fraulein Schilling to let you walk from the Collecting Point if I am not there. You know your way home, don’t you?”

Amalia nodded and bit her lip.

“But you must never lose the key and you may never give it to anyone or tell them you have it, do you understand?”

“I won’t, Mama. I promise.” She put the key around her neck and shuffled to the bed. She lay down on her stomach,
The Snow Queen
between her elbows, face toward the wall.

Madeleine patted Anna’s hand. She nodded her reassurance. “Did you find out anything else about the people in the Schwalbacherstrasse? Where Schneider took that painting when you followed him?” she asked.

Anna shook her head. “I looked at the lists yesterday, but so far no luck.”

“I remembered last night that I knew a Schenk who lives on the Schwalbacherstrasse. I think he had a shop there.
Antiques and restoration, that kind of thing. Very small operation.”

Anna perked up. “Really?”

“Yes Konrad Schenk. His wife ran the business with him. He was nice enough but she was always pushing him and belittling him. He was an artist but she wanted a businessman. We didn’t know them well. Maybe that’s the man Schneider visited?”

“It would make sense, especially if he is a restorer. Madeleine you are a living address book!” Anna smiled.

Madeleine waved her off. “You sit in one place long enough you see a few things.”

“Do you remember when he lived there?”

“Oh years ago, back in the thirties, I would say. He was already quite old then, come to think of it. It could be he is no longer alive.”

Anna’s face sank. “The woman I spoke to at the apartment said the Herr Schenk who lives there only arrived a few months ago. So it couldn’t be the same one. Damn.”

“A son, maybe? Returning from the war?”

“Yes, maybe. I will ask Cooper to look into it.” Anna looked at the clock. “We’d better get going. She went into the kitchen to wrap the odds and ends of food and put them into the old shopping bag.

“Mama, is Captain Cooper coming too? And Auntie, are you?” Amalia asked over her shoulder.

Madeleine waved her arms. “No
meine Kleine.
I am staying here. That hill would be the end of me.”

“But Auntie, fresh air is good for you,” Amalia whined.

“There’s fresh air enough down here. I’ll sit by the open window a spell.”

“And look for Papa?”

“Yes, of course. Don’t I do that every day? If he comes today I’ll send him up the Neroberg straight away.”

Anna twitched. She took the basket and hurried Amalia, who took her book and tied her button necklace around her neck, carefully adding it to the one with the key. She kissed Madeleine on the cheek and followed Anna out the door.

At the front gate, Anna leaned the bicycle against the wall while she rolled up her pant legs. Frau Hermann was sweeping the pavement.

“Frau Klein, how lovely to see you. The ladies are going on a ride today?” She tapped the broom on the ground to shake loose a twig.

Anna nodded. “Yes it’s a lovely day isn’t it? We are going to the Neroberg.”

“Oh, so lovely.
With a picnic. How lucky for you to have a day just for yourself. I hope Frau Wolf is better, then?”

“Yes, she is doing very well.” Anna gestured up to the window. “Aren’t you, Auntie?”

Madeleine’s smiling face appeared above. Amalia giggled.

“Yes, doing well, thank you, Ingeborg. I hope you are well also. How is your boy?”

Frau Hermann took a step back and looked up. “I expect him home any day. He’s been released and I hear they are marching home. Shouldn’t be long now.”

“Well, that is good news. We can be very grateful for that,” Madeleine said.

Anna swung a leg over the bicycle seat and held it steady while Amalia climbed onto the small luggage rack in the back. Anna put the picnic basket in the wire crate tied to the handlebars. Amalia slipped her arms around Anna’s waist as she pushed off, leaving Frau Hermann nattering at Madeleine. Anna smiled, knowing how much Madeleine enjoyed toying with her neighbor. The breeze felt good on Anna’s face and she savored the feeling of her daughter’s arms around her waist and the weight of the girl’s body behind her. Today was a good day.

They met Cooper in the park by the Collecting Point near the Villa Clementine, one of the stately old homes along the Wilhelmstrasse, now home to some American colonel. Cooper sat by a tree stump, two bikes leaning against it. He jumped up and waved at Amalia when they approached.

“You’ve got Oskar?” Anna asked, walking her bike across the dirt lawn. Cooper hooked a thumb over his shoulder. The boy sat at the edge of the small pond, scraping a stick through the dirt. Women scooped buckets into the clear spring water while children chased each other between the few trees and lampposts that remained.

“There he is, Maus. Let’s go meet him.” Anna took Amalia by the hand and pulled her along. “Good morning, Oskar. How are you?” she called.

Oskar punished her with silence.

Anna persisted. “This is Amalia. She’s my daughter that I told you about.”

Amalia took a step closer to Anna.

“You know something I thought of, Oskar? Do you know the stories by Karl May, the ones about the Indian in America, what was his name again?”

Amalia rolled her eyes. “His name is Winnetou, Mama. You know that.”

“Yes, of course. Amalia likes Winnetou stories too, like you do, don’t you Maus?”

Oskar shot her a sideways glance. “Winnetou is not for girls. How stupid,” he sniffed.

“Yes, he is too!” Amalia said and let go of her mother’s skirt. She sat down next to Oskar and regarded him with expectation. “My favorite is
The Treasure of Silver Lake
. What’s yours? I had two books at my house. My Papa read them to me.”

Oskar stared into the distance. “
The Treasure of Silver Lake
is all right but everybody knows
The Black Mustang
is better. I had
all
the books at my house. But my house got blown up. And so did my Papa.” He jabbed the stick into the dirt and it snapped in half.

Amalia picked up a piece of the stick and rubbed it between her hands. “My Oma and Opa got blown up, too. In their house in Vienna, where they lived.”

They sat in silence, side by side, their backs hunched over their knees.

“Were you there?” Oskar finally asked. “When they got blown up?”

Amalia shook her head. “No, I was at home. In Kappellendorf. Its about a million kilometers away from Vienna.”

“I was,” Oskar said. “I was in the basement.
With my Mama. My Papa went upstairs to make sure everyone in the building had come down into the shelter. When the bomb landed, he died. And then the basement fell down on us and burned and my Mama died. But I didn’t.”

Amalia hugged her legs to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees. “That makes me sad,” she said. “Are you very sad?”

“Sometimes. But mostly I’m mad.”

“Because you miss your Papa?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

Amalia drew in the dirt with her finger. “It’s not fair,” she said.

Cooper touched Anna’s shoulder. “We should get going. Today’s gonna get hot.”

Anna nodded and gathered the children as if she had heard none of their exchange. Amalia stood and reached down to pull Oskar to his feet. “I’ll beat you,” she said, and took off running.

They rode along the Wilhelmstrasse and then turned up into the hills in a small orderly column: Anna and Amalia in front, Oskar in the middle, and Cooper at the rear. As the street became more narrow and the incline steeper, Anna lifted Amalia off the bike so she could push it. Eventually Amalia fell back to walk with Oskar. Anna heard her telling Oskar all about her house, the things and friends she left behind, and her Papa. The street was quiet and the garden walls hid the residents, but windows were open and the sounds of domestic life rose up in the clean air. They trudged up the hill another twenty minutes before arriving at the top, hot and sweaty.

“Tell me again why we didn’t take the little train? The one you sit in while it climbs the damn hill?” Cooper panted as he mopped his brow.

“Because you bombed it,” Anna said. “Besides, walking is better.”

“Okay, if you say so. I’d like to point out that I personally had no say in whether or not the train was bombed. Not my area of control, you know.”

The shade offered by the dense thicket of trees was pleasant, and they found a level spot within view of the Russian chapel that perched on the top of the hill overlooking the city. A few people strolled around the once lush and manicured grounds that now seemed a relic of another era. The beautiful swimming pool—the Opelbad—further along and slightly below them on the ridge, sat empty and deserted, its lawn now a brown rectangle and its fountains and pool dry. A childhood memory of a day spent splashing in the shallow end with her mother and Madeleine—when they had come to Wiesbaden for a visit—hovered just outside Anna’s conscious mind. She tried to pull it toward her but it wouldn’t come. Like all the memories of her parents, this one had faded into a distance that Anna could not reach. She turned her back to the view and leaned the bike against a tree.

“Let’s eat,” she said to no one in particular. Amalia cheered and threw herself down on the cool ground. Anna unpacked the basket and spread everything down on an old bed sheet she had brought. She put the food in the middle and gave each of them a napkin. “Help yourself,” she said.

“Women and children first,” Cooper said, lying back on his elbows.

Oskar and Amalia dug in, Oskar inspecting each item with disdain but eventually eating it. Anna chewed on a soggy carrot and Amalia concentrated on peeling a boiled egg.

“Mama, you can have half,” she said.

Anna shook her head and suggested she give it to Oskar. She looked down at the view of the city. The intact roofs of the hillside villas in the foreground, the shattered inner city in the distance, like dense forest giving way to an open, pockmarked plain. The steeple of the Marktkirche presided over the remnants and shards of the city at its feet. The sky was a deep blue, like liquid, and not a cloud interrupted its expanse. It reminded Anna of her total insignificance, at least beyond the handful of people in her life. She tried to enjoy the moment, but this new life away from her husband in a strange city, and now as a working mother, still did not suit her. It felt as if she were wearing someone else’s clothes that were too big in some places and too small in others.

Amalia and Oskar finished eating and wandered into the trees to explore. Cooper took a piece of bread and pulled the crust off with his teeth. “So, how are you, Anna?” he asked.

She ignored the question and jutted her chin in the direction of the chapel. “What do you think of that church? You’re an architect.”

“It’s beautiful,” Cooper said.

“It was built for the Duchess of Nassau by her husband, the Duke. She was a Romanov, one of the Russian royal family.”

“That explains the Russian architecture. Nice of him.” Cooper smiled.